A LITTLE FALL OF RAIN

By Jo

Part Nine:

Frank caused no trouble the rest of the day. Cora hoped it was because he was too busy at the land office and didn't have time to oversee every moment of what she did. Gradually she settled into letting herself enjoy a pleasant time in Ben's company. It took some effort because she was
so used to being babysat by her older brother nearly every waking moment.

Ben was aware of her struggle and after she'd cast several wary looks toward the hotel door toward the beginning of their being together, he smiled and said, "Don't you worry none, Cora. Ain't nobody goin' to be botherin' us."

"How can you be sure?"

"Ain't nobody botherin' us now and if there was some attempt to do such a thing, you still wouldn't have to worry your head none."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you're with me, Cora, that's why not."

Somehow she believed him. "I guess Frank's pretty busy today."

"Guess he is."

She looked across the table at him. "Do you have to leave Flagstaff soon?"

He smiled. She'd asked him pretty much the same thing earlier. "I aim to stay as long as I like. Got no pressin' business any place else. Not right now."  Indeed, she was the only business he had on his mind. He wanted her, wanted her in his bed. All in due time. Nice that Frank was cooperatin' 'n stayin' away from his sister.

She moved her foot under the small table, inadvertently touching his boot. "Oh, sorry," she murmured.

"Now why would you go and be sorry 'bout such a thing, Miss Cora?"

"I...I...well, I didn't mean...."

He moved his foot so it rested completely along the side of her small shoe, his eyes saying clearly that he'd meant to do that. Red flamed up her neck. He liked that. Not many women of his acquaintance could do that. He'd noticed that earlier about her and liked it then, wanted to see

just how far the red went down her bodice. "Should I make my apologies, Cora?"

"Um...no, it's all right."  How could a leather boot send such shivers up her leg, all the way up to....

After a while, several people came in for lunch. "I didn't realize. I mean, the time... I didn't think we'd...."

"You hungry, Cora? I've a mind for somethin' to eat right about now."

"Do...do you think it's all right? Frank might...."

"You hungry, Cora?"

"I am a bit," she admitted.

"Then let's do somethin' 'bout that since we seem to find ourselves in an eatin' establishment."

And so the day went. There was always one more thing, one more reason not to get up and

leave. Frank never once stuck his unwelcome head in the door. It was almost liked he'd

dropped off the face of the earth. Cora was glad; Ben possibly gladder.

Eppie, however, had spent those same hours following Frank and the man from the land office. They'd gone to the back room of a gun shop where they'd been joined by three other men.

Frank explained clearly what he wanted, where he wanted it, and how it would all be set up. Eppie, try as she might, couldn't get close enough to hear all they said. Snatches, bits 'n pieces came to her. "Tonight...full dark...no moon."

It wasn't good enough and she wriggled closer, trying to squeeze her small form behind two crates on a little platform just outside the back door. She strained, needing to hear more, and the top crate overbalanced, crashing down, spilling out metal contents with a horrid clatter.

She gathered herself to run, but a hand grabbed her collar from behind, pulling her up and

off her feet, so that the neck of her shirt pressed tight against the front of her throat, cutting

off her air. Her feet kicked wildly but whoever had her just held her there, letting her dangle

till finally she went limp.

Fielding, the man who'd grabbed her, dumped her in a heap in the middle of the small room. Frank looked down at her sprawled form. "Damn if it isn't Wade's little whore." He poked

her with his boot, but she didn't stir. "Tie the little trollop up and take her to the stables when you go. Make sure she's tied tight and gagged well. We can't have her warning Wade."

He watched as they did that, making sure it was done to his satisfaction, then Fielding stuffed her in a feed sack, tossed her over his shoulder, and went with the other men to the stables,

using the small back entrance. Inside, he dumped her again in an unmucked stall furthest from the main entrance. It was a large stable, used by patrons of the hotel and the other public buildings nearby. They'd already made sure Wade's black was there.

Ben and Cora talked well into late afternoon, neither wanting to leave. Cora really began to need to go to her room and avail herself of the chamber pot there, but didn't want to put it

that way to Ben. Finally, she reluctantly said she would like to rest a little before dinner and allowed Ben to escort her to her door.

He went back to his room, lookin' for Eppie, who never seemed to be around any more. Again, he wondered where she'd got herself to and then forgot about her and stretched himself out

atop the coverlet, crossin' his legs at his ankles, starin' past his boottips at the door, thinkin'

how after a bit he'd see if Miss Cora just might need a dinner companion.

Eppie woke in darkness, barely able to breathe. The cloying scent of old grain seemed plastered to her face and she twisted enough to move her cheek and nose along the rough inner side of the grain sack, understanding immediately what it was. There was a gag, too, not bound around her head but crammed deeply into her mouth, making her feel constantly on the verge of throwing up. Desperately she worked her tongue and teeth, trying to move it forward, but made little progress. Her heart was pounding wildly and she forced herself into some semblance of quiet. She needed to think! Dark, those men planned to harm Ben after dark. She had no way to determine what time it was, how long she'd been passed out. No, NO! She could not, would not allow this to happen. "Think, Eppie, damn you, gal, THINK!" she scolded herself.

She moved her feet, discovering the bottom of the grain sack was untied. All right, that was a place to start. It took the better part of an hour but she managed, worm-like, to wriggle her

way out of the sack. Damn, it was still dark! She couldn't tell if it were from just being in some dark corner or if night had fallen. She was in the stables. That much was easy to tell from the sounds and the smells. Hearing a long scrape, she tried to make noise. Someone was opening

the wide front doors. A bit of late afternoon sun streamed weakly in and she could tell from

the color and angle of it that it was near sunset.

"Mmpftt!" She tried to holler, but couldn't make a decent enough sound to be heard. Whoever

it was saddled a horse on the far side of the stable, led it out, closing the doors behind them.

She almost cried with frustration.

Pushing with her boots, she managed to sit and back herself to a wall. Her hands, tied behind her, were half-sunk in horseshit, her boots almost embedded in it. The smell had gotten stronger, the dung freshly disturbed by her scrabbling efforts. The air in this far corner hung heavy with it, magnified by the heat. She was almost stifled by it and with the gag completely blocking any intake of breath through her mouth, grew dizzy, thinking she was likely to pass out again. She shook her head furiously. No! What good would she be to Ben then?

Hearing a distant rumble, she cocked her head, listening carefully. Sounded like a storm might be moving in soon. What would that do? Make it dark sooner? Something! She had to do something! Digging her heels in more, she pushed her back against the plank wall, sliding inch by inch into a standing position, almost shredding both her shirt and her back against the splintered old boards. No matter. Her ankles were tightly bound so lateral movement along

the wall was almost impossible. She tried a small hop, lost her balance and fell sideways into

the dung. Once again, ignoring the pain, she managed to sit, managed to slide up the wall, opening fresh slices in her flesh.

If only she could see what was around her, find something, anything, some implement to saw through her ropes. She blinked and strained her eyes in the darkness, trying to make out
some outline, some shape. She was feeling dizzy again and bile began to rise up her throat. No, with the gag, there was no way to let it out. She'd choke. Stopping all movement, she concentrated on keeping the bile down. The back of her throat was already stinging with it,

but she somehow kept it from reaching her mouth.

 
Ben dozed a while, awakened by the patter of beginnin' rain. He went to the window, parted

the lace curtains, and looked down the street. Eppie never really liked the rain, said it was too much like takin' a bath. He smiled at the memory of the several times he'd just picked her up and tossed her into a river. Never could teach the gal all that much about personal cleanliness. And he did like his women clean. Not that Eppie was a real woman or anythin', but she did mostly sleep by the same campfire and after a certain number of days smelled too strong of
sweat and spilled food. An image of her came to mind. She'd been with him almost constantly

for a long time now and he'd gotten used to her presence. He could always count on the gal

when push came to shove. Sprightly little thing, loyal as a dog, tireless in keepin' up with him. Vaguely he hoped she was all right. Good kid and he was passin' fond of her even if she did

smell a bit.

Then there was Cora. A man couldn't ask for a cleaner woman. In fact, the thought of her pushed Eppie clear out of his mind again, givin' him a rise in his groin, so he went to his wash basin, wettin' a cloth and wipin' his face and neck. After all, he just might be dinin' in the lady's company before much longer. He smiled, lookin' at himself in the mirror as he washed under

his chin, hopin' neither Frank nor Eppie showed up soon to interfere with him havin' dinner

alone with Cora. A bit of wine, maybe a lot of wine, and who knew whose bed might be

creakin' all nice-like a bit later.

Eppie had managed to sidle bit by painfully slow bit about a foot down the wall where she found a section of broken board sticking out. It was wood, not metal, but it had a fairly sharp edge... she'd already sliced open part of her palm on it...and she began to rub the ropes tying her hands back and forth on it. Rain began to tap dance on the tin roof and shortly turned into a steadier beat of larger drops.

 
"Hurry, Eppie! Damn you, HURRY!" Her mind was wild. Ben might be coming any time. She couldn't let any harm come to him, she couldn't! She scraped back and forth faster and faster, but had to pause now and then to suck in great breaths of air through her nose. That only served

to make her more nauseous, though. Nothing would stop her. She was absolutely determined.
Benjamin Wade was her whole world. If anything happened to him, she knew for certain she'd simply fall right off it and float forever in endless darkness and cold.

It seemed hours, days, before any strands of the rope began to part, but when they did, she strained and struggled with them, forcing them to stretch and give way. That she'd cut her

hands and wrists over and over on the sharp board as well was of no consequence. They were starting to part! Oh, God...oh, God...they were starting to part!

When he considered enough time had passed, Ben ran his fingers through his hair, looked in

the mirror again, then walked out in the hallway and along to Cora's door. He listened for a moment for the sound of Frank's voice from within, but heard nothing. Rapping softly, he

called, "Cora, you in there? It's Ben."

She opened the door, smiling at him. She'd changed her dress into one of light rose pink and looked for all the world to him like some perfect flower. He opened his mouth to speak, but

she said, "Frank's not here. I don't know where he is, Ben, but he's not here."

"Well, now, I'd guess, Miss Cora, that means you would be available to dine with me this fine evenin'." His groin tightened again.

"It's raining, Ben."

"Any evenin' spent in your company is fine, Cora," he smiled and offered her his arm.

She was feeling steadily braver. Something about being in his presence did that to her. Frank seemed very small, very far away.

They had just reached the bottom of the staircase when a completely soaked man dashed in the front door of the hotel, asking the clerk loudly if there were anybody staying there who might own the fine black horse down at the stable.

Ben left Cora at the stairs, walkin' quickly toward the desk. "I have a black there. Somethin'

the matter?"

The man turned toward Ben. "I was passin' by the stable, mister, and the black was bein' led

out by some man I never seed afore. Didn't look like he could afford to stay at the hotel so's I asked him 'bout the horse and he upped and shoved me into the street on my back and took

off for the edge of town."

"When?" Ben growled.

"Just a minute ago, mister, if that."

Ben looked over at Cora. "I've got to go. Be back soon's I can."

With that he was out the door, runnin', Cora forgotten, through the puddles and the downpour toward the stable, needin' to see if the black the man was talkin' about was his. If it was, he'd take any mount at hand. Damn horse thief couldn't have gotten far.  

ON TO PART 10

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